Dear Fred
by KyraAnnCoombes
Summary: Letters to Fred from his favorite little sister
1. Dear Fred

Dear Fred,

It's been awful around The Burrow. I can't remember the last time any of us laughed, even George, and I know you'd hate to hear that. I bet you're probably having a blast wherever you are.

We had your funeral a few days ago. You would have hated it. We all had to dress up and this stodgy old band played terrible, depressing music. Mum was in conniptions. Remember, before Bill & Fleur's wedding, when you talked about how it would be when you got married? You said we could all wear whatever we wanted and that you'd tie Mum up until it was all over. It's too bad you won't get the chance. Don't worry, though, I'll carry out your plans for you. Anyways, we were all supposed to speak, except for Mum. I don't think she's spoken in days. Dad, Bill, Charlie, and Ron got through their bits okay. I mean, they were still crying, and I've never seen any of them but Ron cry, and that was when we were really little, but they did alright. Percy and I barely made it. Percy blames himself for your...for what happened to you, you see, and there's nothing that Dad or I can say to convince him otherwise. You know what he did as soon as we got home from the battle? He ran up to his room here and got his Head Boy badge. He charmed it to say "Pinhead Boy," just like you did the summer that he got it. He's been wearing it around the house, but I think I'm the only one who's noticed. So he was a mess when it was his turn to speak. I was, too. I know, I know. No baby sister of yours is a weeping bint. But I couldn't help myself. I did better than George, anyways. It was so miserable, Fred. He just stood up there, looking like he didn't know how he got there. Then he said your name. He didn't really say it, actually. He just whimpered "Freddie," then he fell down onto his knees. Charlie and Ron had to go up and get him.

You should have seen all the people who were there, though. Ludo Bagman showed up, and I wouldn't let him in until he promised to hand over all the money you and George won from him betting on the World Cup. Mum was embarrassed, but I think it almost made George smile. George hasn't smiled since you've gone. Bagman was there, and so was what's left of the Order. Your funeral was two days after Remus & Tonks's, I hope you're making them smile. We were all really surprised when Peeves showed up. McGonagall had to escort him, but he was great. He came, dressed in all his bright little robes, and he sat in the back and kept quiet and at the end, he had one little tear rolling down his cheek. (But he did squeeze Auntie Muriel's bottom before he left.) He was the only thing about that whole awful ceremony that reminded me of you.

It's just not the same around here anymore, Fred, and I don't think it ever will be. And George...poor George. For the first few days, whenever he'd try to talk, his sentences would trail off like he was waiting for you to finish them. Then he just got like Mum and quit trying to talk at all. He shut himself up in his room and wouldn't let anyone see him, but from the smell we think he was drinking pretty heavily. The day of the funeral he went back to your flat and we've been sending different family members every morning just to make sure he hasn't done something...you know.

So there's them, and then there's me. I still haven't given up on the hope that you'll just walk down the stairs one morning, laughing like an idiot, and join us for breakfast. I haven't told anyone but Harry that. He misses you a lot, too, but he's a lot better at dealing with this death business than any of us are. He did say, though, that his hopes of joining an all-Weasley Quidditch team are squashed, because even with him we'd need Percy to make us a full seven. Can you imagine Percy playing Beater? But really. There're so many things I want to say to you, big brother, but every time I think of one I can imagine you laughing your arse off at how stupid it sounds. I can't very well tell you that it feels like a light's gone off in my life, can I? You'd have a field day with some of the stuff they said at your funeral. I guess that's what I miss the most about you. You could never let anyone be serious, even when awful things happened.

And this is the most awful thing that's ever happened to me.

I love you, big brother.

Love Ginny, your favorite little sister.

**A/N:**_I've never in my life cried so hard while writing something. When I chose to write a letter to Fred, I naturally wrote it from Ginny. I RP as her, and her manner of speech comes very naturally to me. I'm debating publishing more, either from Ginny later on or from other family members. What do you think?_


	2. The First Quidditch Match

**A/N: **_I know this story idea is really popular with you lot. The idea for this one came to me while I was working on the next chapter of _It's Just Quidditch, Right? _It's short, but it's sweet, and I (again) cried while writing it._

Dear Fred,

We had our first Quidditch match of the season this morning.

I'm Captain this year, and the first match was against Slytherin. I'll tell you, Fred, I've never been more keen on a Gryffindor/Slytherin match in my whole life. After last summer, a lot of Slytherin House families got rounded up for Death Eater involvement, so a load of them didn't return to school. It's a bit sad, really, but it also means their team is pathetic. They actually had to let a First Year on as Seeker, and he hardly knows one end of a broomstick from the other.

Anyways, the match. It was bloody fantastic, Freddie, I wish you could have seen it. We won, 290-10. It was a complete flattening, and I scored 9 of the goals! Oliver Wood's the new flying instructor and referee, and he's already got agents from Kenmare, Appleby, and Wimbourne coming to the Hufflepuff match to watch me fly. He even thinks he can get Holyhead to come out! You know I'd love to play for them. And I owe a lot of my flying to you, big brother. Y'know how you and George bought Firebolts last Christmas? I've been flying yours. George gave it to me before school started.

It would have been a complete shut-out, but our new Keeper, Kayleigh, got rammed by Slytherin's Beater a few minutes before Lyssa, our Seeker, got the Snitch. (Wood said it never would've happened to him, but that's just Wood, isn't it?) And we've a new set of twins on the team! Michael and Matthew are the other two Chasers. They're Fifth Years and they've just moved here from America. They're good, but no pair was ever as good in the air as you and Georgie. That's what Wood said, at least. He was telling me stories of your matches from before I was at school. He also said you lot were even better than Puddlemere's reserve Beaters, can you believe that?

I really want the family to come to the next match, but I'm not sure it'd be too good for George, with Mike and Matt on the team and all. He's still really struggling, but he's doing much better. He may even have the store back open by Christmas, and you'll never guess who's been helping him. Percy! And Hermione! Imagine, the Prefects who gave you two the most grief, making fake wands and Canary Creams.

So that's that, I guess. The Hufflepuff match is December 7th, you should try and watch me. I know you'd be proud, big brother. (You should ask Harry's dad to watch, too. I think he'd be impressed.)

I love you, Fred. I still miss you so much, but it's getting easier. Say hullo to everyone, and watch out for the family, George especially. It's bad enough that I had to lose one of you.

Love,

Your favorite little sister

PS- A bit of your swamp is still in that bloody corridor. They've put a portrait of you and George above it. Sometimes I stop by and it's just like old times because you're still there and George still laughs. And the other day, I caught you two telling a Third Year how to pull off some prank.

I love you, Freddie.


End file.
